


Early Nights and First Kills

by Loria_in_eternity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: :(, Angst, Angsty angsty angst, Gen, I ramble a lot, I traumatise my favorite character, I'm really no good at this, Karkat has all the angst, Karkat is sad, Karkat kills a guy, Murder, Oops, Sadstuck, Violence, aaaaaaall of it, does that count as a tag, is that a spoiler, is this sadstuck?, it's pretty sad, not particularly graphic though, poor baby, sorry I just like to torture you, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loria_in_eternity/pseuds/Loria_in_eternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat Vantas decides to head outside for the first time in a long, long time. He thinks about his life, his future (or significant lack of one), and mostly, (predictably) his quadrants.</p><p>The night turns out a lot worse than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Nights and First Kills

It's a cool evening and you've woken up early for once, so you decide to venture outside for the first time in perigrees. You have sickle training for exercise, sure, but despite the fact you have legitimate reasons for your reclusive tendencies you're beginning to feel a bit cooped up.  
It isn't like anyone will be awake yet anyway, you rationalize. What are the chances of an accident? (With your luck, pretty high), but you tuck that thought away behind the frustration of having stayed inside for so long. (It'll be fine)

You choose your outfit with more care than usual, which basically means any care at all, although you aren't sure whether anyone can actually tell the difference between your many almost identical sweaters. Whatever. Being seen is kind of the opposite of what you want, frankly, so worrying about appearances is redundant and more than a little stupid. Great idea, past Karkat.

You're starting to rethink this going outside thing, but you've already made up your mind and if you stay shut in your hive much longer you'll probably go insane. You pick up your sickles from where they lie, beside your 'coon, within arms reach. So what if you're paranoid? With the mutant swill in your veins you have more than enough reason to be.

Outside the air is pleasantly cool, and you almost smile before you catch yourself and school your expression into a more typical frown. No good showing weakness, especially out in the open like this. You aren't _that_ much of a pan-rotted moron, no matter what Terezi says.

__At the thought of Terezi your bloodpusher gives a little skip and you want to tear it out for how pathetic it's being. Seriously, you're probably going to be culled before you reach adulthood, and even if she got over your blood colour (and that's unlikely, considering her obsession with the law. It makes your chest hurt to think about but it's more than likely she'd turn you over to the drones herself if she ever found out) you refuse to make her go through the pain of losing a matesprit.  
You've long accepted that you'll never fill any quadrants. It's just... hard, sometimes. With horror, you realize that you can feel tears welling up behind your eyes. Revolted at your weakness, you force them away, and your bloodpusher twists unbearably._ _

__It's hard, being a mutant. Hard, and lonely, and no-one understands._ _

__You look up at the moons. They're just beginning to rise, and you halt your pacing around your lawn ring for a second as you think about how long it's been since you saw them other than just through a window or as part of a movie. They're beautiful. (You're beginning to sound like Gamzee, god, what if you really are going crazy. Fuck but you're pitiful, and not it the good way either)_ _

__You wonder what it would be like if you were normal. If you weren't a filthy mutant, an aberration that should never have been allowed to exist. What would your blood colour have been? You don't care, really. (Even a rustblood, god, what would you give to be a rustblood, Aradia doesn't know how lucky she is) What job would you end up in? Well, the obvious answer is Threshecutioner, and you hope it's right as well, but honestly you don't care about that either. (Anything, anything, just so long as you get the right to live)_ _

__Who would fill your quadrants?_ _

__The thought entertains you for a while. Terezi, obviously, you'd like for... well, you aren't sure, to be honest. Sometimes it seems like you're flirting red, sometimes black. Whatever it is, you're so (flushed?) (pitch?) for her it isn't even funny._ _

__(It doesn't matter either way. You don't have to settle for a quadrant to like her in if you're never actually going to make a move)_ _

__You laugh, low and bitter. Your throat is dry. You aren't in the habit of talking to yourself, no matter how hypothetically pan-rotted you are, so it hasn't seen use in a long time._ _

__For a moirail... well, you aren't sure. Kanaya, maybe? You think she might be interested, although it's completely possible you're so desperate you're misreading the signals. It's almost lucky that it's impossible for you to have a moirail (while the relationship doesn't involve any bloodletting or pailing which are the problems with the others, you aren't prepared to go into a relationship with anyone while deceiving them. And then there's the matter of their inevitable bereavement, you aren't such an asshole you'd put someone through that just so you could have the satisfaction of at least one fucking quadrant filled before the end) because otherwise you'd probably make a fool of yourself with how utterly, unbelievably _bad_ at romance you are. __

____Black, then, finally. Maybe Sollux? You certainly seem to be blackflirting often enough, but you don't think you actually hate the guy. Besides, there's that whole thing with Terezi._ _ _ _

____(...Yeah. Nevermind)_ _ _ _

____You aren't gonna think about ashen. It's just as important and you know that, of course, but it rarely comes up outside of whenever a suitable pair to auspictize appears. You don't know anyone like that, and even if you did, that particular quadrant is more Kanaya's thing than yours._ _ _ _

____You sigh. Honestly, it's just delusional to think that your romantic failures are all caused by abstinence on account of your blood. Even if you were normal, even if you _could _form romantic relationships, what kind of heinously fucked-up think-pan would a troll have to have to want to be with you? You're such a failure, such a monumental clusterfuck, that any troll that got close enough to see the real you through all your bluster would more likely cull you than pail or pap you. It'd be for your own good.___ _ _ _

______It's a good thing you're so sure Terezi isn't _really_ interested, because if she is then you're leading her on like an asshole. The biggest assiest asshole that ever lived. May all other assholes bow to you, for you are their lord and master. ___ _ _ _

________Good thing you're a hatched leader, otherwise you'd be worried for the fate of most of your friends. Heh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Oh fuck, the tears are back, and they've brought friends. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. Your eyes are burning, and it's getting really, really hard to hold the sobs in. (You can't cry. You can't ever cry because it'd reveal your secret and then.. well, ding-dong, the mutant's dead, let's all go and celebrate how much better are lives are without _that_ particular bag of bulges to fuck everything up for the rest of us!)___ _ _ _ _ _

__________There's wetness on your cheek, there's _wetness_ on your _cheek_ , you are standing outside in full view and you are crying _revolting aberrant mutant_ red fluid while looking up at the moons and thinking about how _utterly doomed_ and useless you are! Why the ever-loving idiotic _fuck_ did you think this was a good idea?!__________

____________________(You think you might be hyperventilating)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________You rush back to the door of your hive, as fast as your legs can take you, hurriedly wiping at your face. (ohgodohgodohgod)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"Oi! Vantas!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________You nearly jump out of your skin and even though it's the worst possible thing you could do right now (ohgodohgod _youidiot_ ) your instincts get the better of you and you swing around to look for the source of the voice.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________It's a troll. A blueblood. Your age. You recognize him; he's your neighbour, although you haven't seen each other for fuck knows how long. He's staring at you in horror, and you realize he must be seeing the tearstains on your cheeks. It's from a distance, you plead, surely it's far away enough that he can mistake the colour for rust._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________His eyes say otherwise. ( _ohgodohgodohgod_ )___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________You're standing in the moonlight, face stained red, and you realise there is no way you're getting out of this. He's staring at the mutant colour as if he can't quite believe it- you can't blame him- but then he gathers his wits and opens his mouth to _scream_ -___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________(The fight or flight instincts warring in your mind finally come to a head; if he calls, others will come; if he calls, you are _doomed-_ )___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________-and you run at him, all savage instincts and whirling sickles. You knew, you always knew, that becoming a Threshecutioner was nothing more than a daydream, would never come true, but that didn't mean you didn't train. Your sickles are twin blurs and you slip from stance to stance as easily as dancing. The blue-blood doesn't know what hit him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Ever-so-sharp, your blades go through skin as easily as butter, and it's almost possible to pretend that you're really dancing, not butchering some poor innocent troll who ( _could have been Terezi, could have been anyone_ ) would have _got you culled!_  
__________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He isn't moving any more. He hasn't been moving for a while, and you know you need to hide the body before anyone else gets up and sees you. You don't think you could do this a second time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________You try not to think about having done it a first._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You can't do anything about the blood on the grass- hopefully none of your neighbours are the type to pry, or even notice. Not like there's any reason to go onto anyone else's lawn ring. It'll probably take a while before anyone noticed he's gone, and then they'll likely just assume he got himself culled. It happens. (You feel sick)  
How do you get rid of a corpse? You can't ask any of your friends, they'd want to know why you killed him. (You don't want them to know you're a murderer) Maybe you should burn it? But how do you move it around without leaving a blood trail that would scream out 'guilty' to anyone with the intelligence to look around?  
(burn _him_ , move _him_ \- not an object, a person, a person _who you killed)_ _______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________You rifle through your sylladex, and find a large bag you don't know what you'd intended to use for, but that makes a satisfactory corpse-carrier. You get it out first try, thank fuck, because you really aren't in the mood to wrestle with shitty code moduses right now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________The blue-blood won't fit. Trying not to gag, you cut off his legs (one, two; gross squelches and cracks of flesh and bone) and try again. It ( _he_ ) goes in without a fight. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You heft the large bag up over your shoulder, trying to ignore the feel of it against your back, or the noises it makes as you walk back to your hive. (You fail)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________The door slams shut behind you with a click that makes you feel a thousand times safer. Crabdad comes scuttling up to you, screeching and clicking in distress and worry, but you don't have time for him right now. You trudge up to your respiteblock, and dump the bag on the floor in the center, to deal with later._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You head to the ablutions block, and hurriedly strip off your clothes, trying not to think about the blue stains that cover them. (Your shoes are miraculously clean. Thank god, you won't have left footprints)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________The water is scaldingly hot, but you don't bother to adjust it. It almost seems like a way to punish yourself (you don't deserve a pleasant shower!) but it's so petty and pointless, and you know it doesn't make anything right._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You wonder if the troll you killed had a matesprit. A kismesis. A moirail. Even ashenmates._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You wonder if they'll miss him. (nobody would have missed you)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You wonder how long it'll take for them to realize. You wonder if they'll come after you._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________You wonder if you want them to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________By the time you've finished wondering the water's run cold, and you're crying again. You wish you weren't a mutant. You wish you'd never been born.  
(You didn't want to kill him. You don't want to kill anyone. It made your throat hurt and your eyes burn and your stomach heave, and you feel like a pathetic excuse for a troll. Kill or be killed, that's just the way the world _works_ )___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________It feels too pathetic, even for you, to fall asleep crying in the ablution tap, so you towel yourself off and grab some new clothes. The old ones are going in the garbage chute with the body, because even if you could get the blood off you don't think you'd ever want to wear them again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________How can Vriska do this, how come she can stand to do this on a regular basis? Is it you, are you broken, somehow, a result of your mutant blood? Are you lacking the savageness and brutality of a normal troll?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________You resolve to act extra tough, extra blood-thirsty, extra cynical. You can't ever let them know what a weakling you are. You've seen how Tavros is treated, you aren't prepared to let that be you. Not _ever.____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________Double the reason to never fill any quadrants. (What if you did and they found out? What if you had to cull them too? You couldn't, you couldn't kill a quadrantmate, an friend, you could barely kill a stranger!)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________When you reach your respiteblock you dump your old clothes on the corpse-bag and drag it over to the garbage chute. You hope no-one checks it and notices, but you don't have the energy to be cautious right now. If you're discovered, you're discovered, and you'll be culled. It'd almost be a relief, except for the fact it would make this whole debacle rather pointless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________(You would have killed him for nothing, and you don't even know his name)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________When the bag is gone, it almost feels like nothing happened, except for a hollow feeling in your chest, and the knowledge you won't be going outside again for a long, long time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first piece of writing (class doesn't count) in a long, long time, so I'd appreciate some feedback, if that's okay. You can think of it as a three-year-long case of writer's block, I guess, eheheh.  
> But I'm writing again now, and predictably, my first piece is wonderfully miserable! But don't worry, I'm sure I can manage some fluff soon.  
> I don't know if I quite managed to get Karkat down right, so once again, feedback'd be mighty helpful! (Oh, who am I kidding, I just reaaaaaaaally want comments, heheh)  
> uh.. I think some of my italics got swallowed, so it might not read exactly as intended. Sorry about that!  
> Thank you very much for reading!


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